


A touch of love

by nat_oliver



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU, AU - No burglar, Angst, Bilbo is so cute, Class Differences, Dwarven 'Ones', Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gossip, Hobbits are Slaves, Hurt Bilbo, Hurt/Comfort, I'm in love with Frerin, I'm the author so I can fall in love for my characters, Intolerance, M/M, Overprotective Thorin, Rebuilding Erebor, Slave Bilbo, Slavery, Tags May Change, Thorin is not an idiot this time, Thorin really loves him, Trust Issues, bagginshield
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-01-26 14:21:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1691408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nat_oliver/pseuds/nat_oliver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin never felt the urge to protect something as intensely as he was feeling right now. Even his nephews, he believed that they should have their own scars, cause that's how the world shapes people, but he couldn’t think of… he wouldn’t let any harm to come to the fragile creature in his arms.<br/>"Who are you?" Thorin whispered and caressed the hobbit’s hair.<br/>He would find out.</p><p> </p><p>Or, that one in which Hobbits are rare, so they had been enslaved. Thorin finds a sick, hurt, blond, beautiful little Hobbit and takes care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there!  
> Another Bagginshiels fic, I swear, I'll go down with this ship!  
> I had this idea this morning and i just had to write it.  
> And yes, another Hurt!Bilbo. Don't hate me, please, i just like to see someone taking care of him, and Bilbo seems like made to suffer. Sorry!  
> But the Angst will end up soon, this will bem mostly fluffy.  
> As usual, I'm Brazilian, so english is not my first language, This is not beta'd so there will be errors and mistakes. Sorry again.  
> Well, I hope you like it!

Ps - This is how i picture Frerin, Thorin's brother. (Yes, Gerard Buttler)

 

"How's it going the rebuild of Dale, Bard?" Thorin Oakenshield, the dwarf king of Erebor, asked the man who walked beside him through the corridors under the mountain.

"Slowly but steadily." Bard replied with a sigh. "But I think the city will be completely rebuilt sooner than I've thought. The villagers have put a lot of effort to rebuild their homes and the dwarves you sent to help us are working very hard. Again, thank you for that."

"You're welcome." Thorin said with a nod. "That was the least I could do."

"I'm glad that the two cities are working on good terms now."

Bard mused and the two fell in a pleasant silence. Thorin liked to walk through the halls of Erebor. He had spent so long without seeing his beloved kingdom and now he preferred to have these meetings with Bard, the king of Dale, while walking through the streets and being constantly interrupted by a resident of the mountain, rather than sitting in the throne room, getting stagnant and bored. He wanted to see the halls, the corridors, the mines. He wanted to run his hand on the stone walls and feel that the mountain belonged to the dwarves again.

Erebor had been taken from them by Smaug, the dragon, which once flew above the mountain and decided that it, along with the gold inside it, would be his. On that fateful day, the dwarves watched their city burn and they couldn’t do anything but run and run, like cowards to the Blue Mountains. The city of _Dale_ , that was build at the foot of the mountain also saw its end that day. Smaug has spared no one before he crossed the gates of the mountain. Dale, unlike Erebor, was a city of men and the few that had survived built the floating city of _Laketown,_ and any friendship that had existed between men and dwarves has been forgotten.

Thorin, who was a young prince at the time, had to grow up and change to take care of his people. Thorin had become strong and determined, a leader. All he could think about was that one day they would return to their mountain, to the home that had been taken from them. There was a huge responsibility over his shoulders and he wondered if he could be the king that his people needed. He was righteous and fierce. He fought for what he thought was right and everyone respected him. However, his kin would agree that the king was a lonely person.

Thorin didn’t disagree. He had got used to the loneliness because he had been too busy trying to keep his people alive. He was not interested in love or finding a consort, not while the dwarves were exiled and starving. Besides, Dis, his sister, had secured the lineage of Durin when she gave birth to Fili and Kili, his nephews. They were his heirs. In fact, he had no hope that he would find someone to love in this life, and he was more or less resigned to this.

So many years has passed until it was time to return to the land of the dwarves. Thorin Oakenshield, twelve loyal friends and Gandalf, the Grey - a mysterious wizard who had the habit of disappearing when the dwarves needed him most – had made their way to the Lonely Mountain and against all odds, they managed to kill Smaug with the help of Bard. But Laketown had been badly damaged in the process. The floating city sunk in the lake that day and the survivors of the attack of the dragon had lost their homes again. Then, the villagers decided that just like the dwarves had done, they also should return to their home, to Dale. Thorin was not opposed to the idea, he actually sent many dwarves to help rebuild the city.  Bard was named the new king of Dale. He was an honorable and brave man. Before the fall of Smaug, Bard was just a bowman, but his bravery in the battle and his love for the city conferred on him the title of king. Thorin thought it was very much deserved.

Thorin was also happy that the two cities were getting along and helping each other and he considered Bard a good friend. The two had many things in common, and they also disagreed on many things, but they were always sincere in their conversations.

The two kept talking for a while until Kili - Thorin's nephew - had approached them. The young dwarf bowed and glanced to the two kings with a warm smile.

"Uncle Thorin, King Bard. I'm sorry to interrupt your meeting, but Uncle Frerin just arrived!"

Thorin's face lit up.

"It was about time!" Thorin said with a fond smile. "Come Bard, and meet my brother Frerin."

Thorin, Kili and Bard headed to the gates of the mountain and Thorin could not help smiling all the way through the halls. People had found it odd because they were used to see a grumpy Thorin. But the king didn’t care, his brother had finally arrived at the mountain. It had been a few months since Smaug had been defeated and he wondered why his brother was taking so long. But he knew Frerin could not stay for too long. The rightful king of Erebor was Thorin, and Frerin had built another kingdom in the north and they were very prosperous. Frerin had come to see the home of his ancestors and show his respect, but his real home was in the north.

When Thorin crossed the gate, he saw Frerin’s company arriving on the extern courtyard of Erebor, where the market was situated. Frerin and his men were mounted on ponies and they were bringing carts. Once Frerin had dismounted of his pony, they ran toward each other and crushed in a tight hug. They had not seen each other for a long time. Frerin was the same height as Thorin, clear blue eyes, but his hair was blond. Everyone said Fili looked a lot like him. He looked older than Thorin remembered, of course, but for the king, Frerin would always be his little brother.

"Welcome home!” Thorin said, his voice muffled.

“Is good to be back.”

“Oh, brother. It’s been a long time since we last saw each other." Thorin said happily.

"And you're still ugly." Frerin said joking. Apparently, he hadn’t lost his sense of humor.

The two touched their foreheads and smiled. They pulled away and Frerin looked around, scanning the area.

"Where is our sister?" Frerin asked frowning. “Where Is Dís?”

"She haven’t arrived yet, but she will. Your nephews are here, though."

Thorin turned around and saw the crowd that had gathered at the gates of Erebor to see the arrival of the son of Thrain. The king didn't have to call for his nephews, the two young dwarfs came running toward them and hugged their uncle, almost making him fall.

"Mahal! You’re adults now! Last time I saw you two, you were only two dwarflings!” He said in awe “I remember the day you brought a mouse to your mother's quarters. It was hilarious. "

"She didn’t find that funny." Kili replied looking away, but he smiled at the memory.

"In fact, she chased us all over the mountain with a pan in her hand." Fili said. “It was very scary, actually.”

Frerin giggled.

"I must confess, until then, I didn’t know that Dís, my sweet sister, was capable of saying..." he looked at Thorin and saw the king frowning and glaring at him. Frerin cleared his throat and added "…such _eloquent words_."

Fili and Kili looked at each other confused but did not comment on that. Frerin's eyes scanned the crowd and soon he noticed the presence of Bard, because his height stood out among the dwarves. Noticing where was Frerin’s attention, Thorin cleared his throat and gestured with his hand, telling Bard he could approach the family meeting.

"Frerin, this is King Bard of Dale."

Bard approached the dwarves and bowed.

"Welcome, Lord Frerin."

Frerin also bowed and smiled.

"I heard about what happened to Laketown, I'm sorry. I passed through Dale on the way here, and I have to say that you're doing a good job in rebuilding the city."

"It will take a while, but soon it will be better than before." He smiled warmly then turned to Thorin. "King Thorin, I’m afraid I have to go now. I'll let you enjoy the company of your brother. Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon, Bard. Have a safe journey."

"Thank you. Lord Frerin, Princes." He bowed one more time.

Bard walked away from the group and walked over to where his guards were waiting to escort him back to Dale. Thorin, Frerin, Fili and Kili watched Bard and company leave Erebor until he was too far away to be seen. Fili and Kili excused themselves and went back inside the mountain, leaving the two brothers in the courtyard. While they watched the departure of Bard, the carts and wagons made their way into the courtyard and Frerin’s guards began to unload its contents. Thorin decided that he would see the gifts his brother had brought to him later, cause now he some questions to make.

"What took you so long?" Thorin said demanding the attention of his brother.

"The road is dangerous. You know that." Frerin said with a small smile, but Thorin could hear the seriousness behind his words.

"Did you have any problems?" Thorin asked worriedly.

"Orcs. There was this pack going to the north and we met midway." Frerin sighed. "It was a fierce battle."

"Are you hurt?" Thorin said with wide eyes.

"No, but we lost some brave fellows."

"But... What did they were doing this far north?"

"They were trafficking. Most of these carts were theirs." Frerin said pointing to the carts and wagons.

Thorin turned his attention to the things that were being displayed at the yard. Weapons, skins, gold, things that must have been stolen by orcs.

"That's all?"

"Uh ... No."

Frerin pointed to the last wagon entering the courtyard. It was made of iron, unlike the others which were made of wood. It was square-shaped like a box, with just an iron door locked with a padlock. Thorin knew this type of wagon, it was used to transport prisoners. It was a cage.

"What did you got in there?" Thorin said warily. Whatever was inside that wagon, it could be dangerous.

"You'll see." Frerin said seriously. "Herund, open it." Frerin said to one of his guards.

The dwarf nodded, walked to the wagon and unlocked the door of that cage on wheels.

"Come out. It’s okay." Herund said quietly, almost friendly, to the thing inside the wagon.

Thorin was confused. Why did he used such a reassuring tone with something that was potentially dangerous? Thorin kept his eyes on the open door of the wagon and his hand instinctively gripped the hilt of his sword. What left the wagon, however, was not dangerous, but it made Thorin choke in disbelief.

Stepping slowly to the door, the creature covered his eyes with his hand to protect them of the sunlight. The creature was small, smaller than a dwarf. He was wearing a tunic that seemed too big for him and it was too clean if compared to the state of the skin that was exposed, leading Thorin to believe that this tunic had been given to him by some dwarf. His hair was dark blond and his curls covered his forehead. He was shaking from head to toe, he was very scared. Thorin could see his lips trembling, giving the impression that he would burst into tears at any minute. Thorin could not say much because he did not step out of the cage completely, he just stood at the door, afraid to come out. All he could say was that he was beardless, small and thin. Then suddenly, the creature looked right into Thorin’s eyes.

Mahal help him. Those eyes ... those eyes had a shade of blue that Thorin had never seen before, he could only compare those eyes with the most beautiful sapphires of Erebor. And it was not only the color of the eyes of this little creature that was affecting Thorin, the expression of his face was so... so...

Thorin was breathless.

Herund reached out to help the beardless creature to climb down of the cage, but it yelped and went back inside, trying to hide at the bottom of the wagon. Herund sighed and looked at Frerin.

"My Lord ..." he trailed off and sighed. Apparently this behavior wasn’t new.

"He's very shy." Frerin tried to explain to his brother.

"What is he?" Said Thorin still dumbfounded.

"He's a _Hobbit_."

 _Hobbit_? This word was not strange to him.

Oh right! Now he remembered it. How come he hasn't realized what it was? Okay, Thorin was too busy being enthralled by the hobbit’s eyes - his people called then _Halflings_ – so he had not payed attention to other details, like his feet.

Hobbits were rare. Thorin had never seen one before, he just had read about them on the books of the great library of Erebor. What did they knew about Hobbits was that they were rare and that they were a race that had been enslaved. He had heard about kings of men who had one or two halflings in their court as _pets_. They were sold at fairs and markets along with spices and cloths and many ended up in brothels. Because of its weak structure, they were easily subdued and too many died because of abuse and mistreatment.

The worst fate in Middle-earth was to be born a _Hobbit._

"He was with the orcs?" Thorin asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"There were more Halflings. Eight, maybe. The orcs were leading the herd to the north. They attacked us, but we won the battle. Then, we checked all the carts to see what they were smuggling. Imagine our surprise when we opened this one."

"And the rest of them?"

Frerin lowered his head.

"The orcs did not feed them properly and barely gave them water to drink. They were trapped in that little cage..." Thorin could see that Frerin was fighting the tears. "When we opened the cage, they were naked, sick, most of them were dead. This was the only one who survived."

Thorin's blood was boiling with all the hatred he felt. No living creature deserved to go through this kind of horror.

"I hope you've killed them all, brother, and i hope you have given them a very painful death." Thorin said through clenched teeth.

"Oh, yes. I did." Frerin gave him a devilish grin.

"Good."

"I really don’t know what to do." Frerin said rubbing his forehead. "I couldn’t leave him there to die, but I don’t know what to do with him now. He has no kin to whom I can send him back and as far as I know, Halflings has no lands of their own."

"Let's fix that." Thorin said.

Ignoring the confused look his brother gave him, Thorin walked toward the wagon. Herund stepped away from the door so Thorin could approach. He looked inside and saw the saddest thing he had ever seen in his entire life.

The halfling was huddled in a corner, sitting on the floor hugging his knees close to his chest. His eyes were blank and he sobbed, his shoulders were shaking with his crying.

Thorin felt a pain in his chest. In that moment he knew he had to take care of that poor little thing.

"Hey ..." Thorin cleared his throat and said, trying to sound less threatening as possible. "Hey, it's okay."

The Halfling snapped his head up and looked at Thorin again. Those blue eyes widened and he began to shiver and try to put more distance between the two, trying to lean even more against the wall of the cage - if that were possible.

"No, sshhh, it's okay, I will not hurt you." Mahal, it was like trying to approach a wild animal. "I'm going to get in there with you." Thorin warned before climbing the step to get into the cage.

The first thing Thorin noticed was the horrible smell. He brought his hand to his mouth, but he bravely managed to not vomit.

"Why did you let him in here? It's disgusting!" Thorin asked shocked.

"He did not want to leave the cage and he's too weak to walk." Frerin said.

The cage was large enough for Thorin to stand upright inside it. For a man like Bard it would be uncomfortable. Someone as tall as him would have to keep sitting all the time, but for a dwarf or a hobbit it was quite suitable. The Halfling saw that Thorin was inside de wagon and he began to scream desperately. He leaned back in the corner and tried to curl into a ball, trying desperately to escape as if Thorin, the dwarf king, were Sauron himself.

"He always reacts like that." Thorin heard Herund saying from outside.

"What's his name?" Said Thorin.

"He haven’t told us. He haven’t said a word since we found him." This was Frerin's voice again. "He doesn’t let anyone to touch him."

"And how did you managed to put the tunic on him?" Thorin asked intrigued without looking away from the Halfling.

"I'm not proud to say that we had to knock him out. Otherwise we would not be able to care of his infected wounds." Herund said.

"Well, this explains why he is afraid of dwarves." Thorin said.

He shook his head and looked at the halfling who had calmed down a bit during this conversation.

"Hey, it's okay." He stepped forward and the Halfing winced, putting his arms protectively above his head as if he was expecting a blow from Thorin.

Thorin froze in place. The halfling really thought that Thorin would hurt him? What could have happened for the hobbit to react like that? What the orcs had done to him?

The dwarf did not move and after a while - since no blow had came - the halfling lowered his arms and looked at Thorin still very scared, but now he looked a little confused.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" Thorin said with his deep voice.

He felt stupid. He didn’t know if hobbits were able to speak, the books didn’t say anything about it, but then to his surprise, the little one nodded.

"My name is Thorin." He took another step forward and knelt in front of the Halfling.

The halfling kept staring at Thorin, his desperate cries had turned into quiet sobs.

"P-please ..." The halfling said quietly. "D-don’t h-hurt me."

There was so much pain and sorrow in those words. Thorin just wanted to take that little creature into his arms and comfort him.

"No harm will come to you, halfling, I promise."

Thorin reached out to touch the hair of the little one but the hobbit flinched.

"Don’t be afraid of me."

Thorin reached out again, not to touch the halfling, but offering his hand for him to hold, so Thorin could help him stand. The Hobbit stared at his hand for a while, probably wondering if he should accept the help or not. He looked into the icy-blue eyes of the Dwarf King and after one last sniff, he took the hand Thorin had offered.

The king stood up and helped the little one to stand as well. Thorin smiled, counting this as a small victory. But his smile dropped when he saw the hobbit closing his eyes and beginning to fall, but Thorin held him before he could hit the ground and get himself hurt. He was unconscious, he had fainted because he was to weak. The limp body of the hobbit weighed almost nothing and Thorin, for a moment, just stared at the face of this mysterious creature.

Thorin never felt the urge to protect something as intensely as he was feeling right now. Even his nephews, he believed that they should have their own scars, cause that's how the world shapes people, but he couldn’t think of… he wouldn’t let any harm to come to the fragile creature in his arms.

"Who are you?" Thorin whispered and caressed the hobbit’s hair.

He would find out.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody!  
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos in the first chapter of this fic, I was very happy, so I'll give you guys the second chapter.  
> A little angst, but love is in the air.  
> :)  
> Let's read!

Thorin looked to the sleeping hobbit in his arms. His hair had the color of honey, and Thorin could not resist the urge to brush a strand of hair from his forehead, revealing the delicate features of his face, his upturned nose, his long eyelashes and his pink lips.

Mahal, he was so young. There was no sign of beard on his face and for a moment Thorin wondered if the hobbit wasn't a child, but then he remembered that the books said that the halflings didn't grow beards like dwarves did.

Then, his eyes landed on the neck of the hobbit and he gasped when he saw a scar. Actually, it was a wound in healing process, red and raw, and it was all around his neck. Thorin felt his blood boil with anger. That could only mean that injury has been made by a collar of iron, put on his neck as if he were an animal. No living being should be treated like that. It was cruel. He would have to thank Frerin again for having killed all those orcs.

Gently, Thorin picked the hobbit in his arms and climbed out of the wagon. He had to take the little one out of that filthy place, he had to take care of him, clean his wounds and feed him. The halfling weighed almost nothing in his arms, Thorin could feel his bones through the fabric of his tunic and he could only imagine when had been last time they had fed the poor thing.

They would have left this poor, harmless creature starving to death? Thorin should just stop thinking about those things, it was only making his anger grow. His priority now was to take the hobbit to the safety of the mountain.

As soon as he put his feet on the ground, two young dwarves promptly approached the king to take the hobbit from his arms.

"Shall we take him into the mountain, Your Majesty?" One of the dwarves asked and reached out his hand to touch the halfling.

Thorin tightened his grip around the hobbit instinctively and stepped back, glaring at the dwarf who dared to approach his halfling. The young dwarf looked at him confused and withdrew his hand, probably thinking he had done something wrong. The king heard Frerin chuckling behind him and he turned around in time to see his brother with the most amused face he had ever seen.

"Calm down, brother. Nobody is going to steal him from you." Frerin said with a smile.

Thorin glared at Frerin and turned his attention to the young guard.

"I'll take him inside, thank you."

"Should I tell the healer to prepare a cot at the infirmary?" Another dwarf asked.

"No!" Thorin answered too quickly and he heard Frerin chuckling again. He cleared his throat and said: "No... he ... I'll take him to my quarters. Tell Oin to meet us there."

The young dwarf bowed and ran toward the gate of the mountain to do what he had been told. Thorin sighed and looked again at the hobbit's face. What was wrong with him? That was not his usual self, he had never acted like that before. He knew the lads meant well, but Thorin was feeling  this instinct of protectiveness and when that dwarf approached with the intention of taking the hobbit from his arms, Thorin saw the lad as a threat. He knew that no one there would hurt the little one, but Thorin was not in his right mind. He never felt that and it was kind of terrifying.

"For a moment I thought you were going to rip the head of that lad." Frerin said approaching and standing beside his brother.

“I don’t know what came over me.”

Frerin smiled, noticing that Thorin squeezed the hobbit even closer to his chest. He knew his brother very well. There was a spark in Thorin's eyes that Frerin had only seen when his brother had found something that he would consider as a treasure, something precious and invaluable.

Once when they were kids, Thorin had found a perfectly round sapphire down in the mines. It was a small and simple stone if compared to the diamonds that were extracted daily from the mines, but for Thorin, that simple stone meant everything. He said that it was unique, that Mahal had made it perfectly round without the help of the tools of the dwarves.

It was unique. It was perfect. It was _his_.

Thorin had the same look in his face now and Frerin couldn’t imagine anything more unique than a hobbit among dwarves.

His brother was so gone.

****

_The rain that had begun as a weak drizzle was now pouring violently. The blond hobbit could hear the sound of rain falling on the roof of the wagon and the thunder in the distance. Some water was dripping inside the wagon through the cracks in the wood, leaving the inside of it the even colder and filthy - if that was possible._

_He felt his stomach aching with hunger, he felt so cold that it seemed like his bones were breaking, but he was used to this sort of thing. As a Hobbit, he had learned that it was easier to close his eyes and pretend none of this was happening and that was what he was trying to do._

_He was sat on the wooden floor, naked and shivering, hugging his knees close to his chest. He was leaning with his back against the cold hard wooden wall and he closed his eyes, trying to disconnect himself from everything around him, trying to disappear inside his own head. He liked to think about green fields, trees, flowers, fountains in the woods and open skies. He imagined himself running free or just lying in the grass, feeling the sun on his face and the scent of the rain. Not this rain right now, cold and dirty. He dreamed about summer rains in a field of flowers and the smell of wet earth. But he knew that these things would never happen, that these were only the dreams of a slave. Sometimes he could do it, turn his brain off,_ _but sometimes, no matter how hard he tried, his head just didn't turn off and that was the worst part: being aware of everything around him._

_He heard someone having a coughing fit and that was what brought him back to reality. Across the wagon, a hobbit with dark hair was bent forward, taken by a coughing fit, one hand covering his mouth to muffle the noise. It was not wise to draw the attention of the orcs._

_That hobbit was sick and he would die sooner than later, just like the others. The orcs did not even had the decency to take the corpses out of the wagon, they were rotting right there among the living to show them that they didn't care. That hobbit would die, but the blonde young hobbit could not feel sorry for him. Actually, he envied him._

_He knew what kind of fate was waiting for the hobbits who managed to survive this trip. They would be sold. Again. The blonde had lost count of how many times he had seen himself in the same situation, and every time, things could get worse. Forced labor, torture, humiliation, pain... what could be waiting for him this time? Because the blonde would survive the journey, he always did. He wondered when it would finally be his time to die. Considering his current situation, he could not think about it as being a bad thing. He envied that sick hobbit because soon he would be free, and the blonde could see no such luck coming his way in the near future._

_Then he heard a commotion outside the wagon. The orcs were screaming in Black Speech and although he could not understand what they were saying, he knew that they were furious. What was happening? Then he heard people shouting in Westron, so furiously as the orcs, they cursed and provoked the evil creatures and the blonde knew that nothing good would come of it._

_Then, what he feared just happened. The sound of swords clashing was close and seemed to be all around them. They were in the middle of a battle. He could hear howling and shouting and swearing on both sides and he felt the panic rising inside his chest. The orcs were evil, but the blonde hobbit had known men as evil as orcs. In any case, it didn't matter who would win, he would still be a slave._

_He felt panic, he felt his body trembling, he felt his heart pounding violently inside his chest and all the while he heard the cries and the noise of the swords. He was huddled in a corner, crying silently. Some time passed, maybe a few hours, he wasn't sure, and he could no longer hear the orcs. Apparently the others had won the battle._

_Then, he heard footsteps approaching the wagon. The blonde hobbit braced himself for the worst, but he hoped these people would be pious enough to kill them right away. All the hobbits who were inside that wagon - the living ones, that weren't much - shared that feeling and they crawled to the bottom of the wagon when the door began to be forced open. They flinched and whined. The blonde, who was the smaller among them, was hidden behind them in a last attempt to try to protect each other. But he knew it was useless, they were trapped, there was no escape._

_Then the door cracked open and what the hobbits saw were not men. They were smaller than men, but they were not hobbits. They had beards and they were carrying axes and swords, they wore furs and were covered with the black blood of the orcs. They were **Dwarves.**_

_The blonde hobbit shuddered with fear. These dwarfs would probably steal them and sell them, just like the orcs had done. A dwarf approached the door and looked inside. He had dark hair, his beard was long and braided and he had an axe in his hands._

_But there was something strange about that Dwarf, he had not the fierce expression that the hobbits were expecting he had. His expression was... shocked… and… sad._

_"Lord Frerin! You have to see this!" The dwarf said._

_The blonde hobbit didn’t know that this was the moment that would change his life forever._

****

The Royal Quarters had many adjacent rooms, a living room, a study and even a fully equipped kitchen. Thorin thought it was a waste of space because his bedroom was larger than many homes of many dwarves under the mountain. Sometimes he did not know what to do with so much space just for him. It was very quiet and very cold, even with all the fireplaces lit at the same time, it was another kind of warmth that was lacking there. _Warmth of people_.

After the mountain had been stolen by the dragon, the dwarves had to accommodate where was possible, sometimes they had a lot of people in a little space, and he had become used to always have someone with him, like his nephews and his sister Dis. Now that they had returned to their rightful home, he found his quarters too big and empty.

There was a room like a guest room in the royal quarters. Previously, it was called _'the consort's chamber'_. Dwarves are not known for their docile temperament, and arranged marriages were common among royalty, and sometimes, the king and the consort argued seriously and they needed time to calm their tempers.

Thorin remembered that his father had a happy marriage, and his grandfather as well, so the consort's chamber had not been used for centuries, but the room had been cleaned after they had returned to the mountain and he kept it tidied for when his nephews wanted to visit him and spend the night. The rooms were separated by a kind of living room and the occupants could move from one room to another without even having to use the corridors. Private, discreet, close, perfect. It was there where the halfling would rest.

When Thorin arrived to the room, the healer was already there, busy with bottles of potions, ointments, herbs and bandages. There were some buckets with hot water next to the bed and Thorin thought that it would be used to clean the hobbit's skin, after all, he just might take a proper bath after he was completely recovered.

Thorin laid the sleeping hobbit in the bed that seemed too big for him. Reluctantly he pulled away and let Oin, the healer, do his job. The king sat on a chair that Oin's assistant had placed there for him and he was watching while the tunic that the hobbit was dressed with was torn into pieces and his beaten body was revealed. Thorin gasped when he saw the state of the body in that bed. There were bruises and scratches all over his body. Underneath the layer of grime, Thorin could see that his skin was pale and just like his face, the rest of his body was free of hair - with the exception of his feet - but the thing that had scared him most was how much the hobbit was thin. Thorin could see _and count_ his ribs, he could see his hipbones and his arms were so thin that Thorin could break it like twigs if he held them just a little bit harder.

"What happened to him?" Oin asked just horrified by that image as Thorin was.

"He was a slave." Thorin said and stood up from the chair, starting to pace around the room, but without approaching the bed, not to disrupt the healer.

Oin shook his head and sighed.

"Poor lad."

The healer said while his assistant began to clean the grime and sweat from the skin of the hobbit, so that the ointments could be applied on the wounds. Thorin gritted his teeth and had to look away not to see somebody else touching his hobbit. The rational part of his mind knew that they were only helping the halfling, but his new found instincts told him that he should drag that dwarf out of that room, so he wouldn't touch _his_ hobbit. The halfling tossed and turned in his sleep and he seemed to be suffering. Was he in pain? Meanwhile, Oin busied himself in preparing a medicinal tea, pouring some water in a mug with a few leaves of the herbs that they had brought to the room.

Oin looked up and saw the king pacing around the room and that he was glaring daggers at the young dwarf.

"My King, could you please wait outside in the living room?" He said slowly, as if that was a suggestion and not an order.

Thorin looked at Oin as if he had said a blasphemy. He growled - yes, he growled - and its deadly gaze was now directed to the old dwarf, who didn’t looked impressed. Thorin took a deep breath and looked away. Oin was right, Thorin could do nothing but wait, so he left the room, but he was not happy about it.

Thorin left the chamber and sat on a loveseat in the living room and kept waiting for news about the health of the halfling, thinking about his own behavior since that little creature had fainted in his arms.

What was wrong with him? Thorin had never let his impulses to take over him, but that hobbit had awakened something inside him. Mahal! He didn't even know him, but he wanted to protect the halfling, he wanted to take care of him as if he were the most precious thing in the world. That little one was under his protection now, and Thorin would never let him get hurt again. Because he was _his halfling_.

Suddenly these two words began to pound inside his head.

_My Halfling, My Halfling, My Halfling..._

Thorin could only be crazy.

An hour later, the door of the 'consort's chamber' was opened, and Oin and the assistant left the room. Thorin stood up  immediately and walked over to the two dwarves ready to demand answers, but Oin lifted one hand, speaking first.

"He's fine. He's too weak, but he will survive."

Thorin let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and closed his eyes, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"Is he awake?"

"No. Let him rest for now. He must not leave the bed for a few days. I'll tell Bombur to prepare a light soup for him to eat when he wake up."

Oin patted Thorin's shoulder and smiled. Assuring they would return later to change his dressings in a few hours, Oin and the assistant left the royal quarters. Thorin knew that the healer had told him to wait and let the halfling rest, but he had to see him and make sure he was all right.

Slowly, not to make any noise, the king turned the knob and opened the door of the consort’s chamber, where the hobbit was. He approached the bed on his tiptoes and looked at the sleeping hobbit.

He was clean. His face was free of grime and his blonde hair looked clean and brighter, but it still looked a little damp. They had dressed him in a white nightgown and there was a soft blanket over him. He looked so fragile like that, sleeping peacefully and snoring softly.

The king moved the chair closer to the bed as quietly as he could. He sat down and now he could reach the hobbit by just stretching his arm. He reached out and held the hobbit's hand in his. That hand was so small and fragile compared to his, the skin was pale but the hand was warm, _alive_ , and that was all that mattered.

The sleeve of the nightgown rolled down and Thorin could see the bandage on his wrist. Thorin imagined that the hobbit’s wrists must have been tied with handcuffs. He looked at his neck and saw that there was also a bandage around his neck.

His little one had suffered so much. Enslaved, tortured, sick and hungry. The life of the Dwarves of Erebor had been hard after Smaug, but they were a strong people and blow after blow, they never fell. These hobbits, they were small and fragile, they never had a chance to rise of the ground.

He would make sure that his halfling would never feel pain, hunger or fear again. To seal this silent promise, Thorin brought the hobbit's hand to his lips and gave it a chaste kiss. The king smiled against that skin, placed his hand back on the mattress and lifted his head to watch the hobbit sleeping - nothing creepy, mind you - but the hobbit wasn't sleeping anymore. His sapphire eyes were wide open, and they stared at Thorin. For a moment the king was paralyzed, not knowing what to do, then the hobbit sat up with a start and began to scream. Thorin had stood up abruptly by reflex, letting the chair fall with a bang on the floor. Not knowing what to do, he took a step back.

"Shhh, calm down." Thorin raised his hands so the halfling could see that the dwarf was no threat, but the small creature kept screaming and crying. "It's okay, you're safe here." He tried, but his little one was panicking.

The king saw tears forming in the eyes of the hobbit and his heart broke.

"Don’t you remember me? I am Thorin, I talked to you earlier on the wagon." He tried to say it with a soothing voice, but he also was starting to panicking. It really wasn’t like he had imagined it would be his first conversation with his halfling.

The hobbit’s crying seemed to subside a little and Thorin felt confident enough to take a step forward.

Huge mistake.

Startled, the hobbit screamed and cried again and tried desperately to crawl to the other side of the bed, far from Thorin, but the king was having none of it. If he managed to get out of bed, he could hurt himself. He was too weak and too thin, he could fall and break something.

With a skill he did not know he had, Thorin climbed onto the bed and grabbed the hobbit's waist before he could get off the bed and flee. Thorin was so much stronger than him and immobilizing him was easy. Thorin was straddling the hobbit's legs and pinning his arms, but he was careful not to hurt him.

"Don’t! Please, don’t do this!" The Hobbit cried, lying on his stomach on the bed. "Please! Don’t hurt me!"

He was shaking from head to toe under Thorin and this reaction took the king by surprise.

"I... I’m not going to hurt you. I promised you that, remember?" Thorin said hearing the sobs of the little hobbit. "But you're weak, you can’t leave this bed yet."

"Please..." the hobbit sobbed.

Thorin loosened his grip on his arms and pulled away from the hobbit, because apparently _that_ was the problem. The halfling didn't try to escape again, he just curled into a ball in the middle of the bed and cried his heart out, his shoulders were shaking with his sobs.

"Stop crying, you'll make yourself sick." He tried, but it was useless.

The king rubbed his forehead with his hand, completely frustrated. He really didn't know what to do in a situation like this. Thorin was a warrior, he did not know how to comfort someone. Then he remembered something his sister had done when Kili was a child and had a terrible nightmare and there was no way he would stop crying.

Thorin took deep breath and braced himself.

Thorin grabbed the hobbit by the waist and placed him sitting on his lap with a precise movement. The hobbit struggled and screamed, trying to get loose, but Thorin was stronger than him. Then, the king hugged him and made him rest his head on his chest and started rocking back and forth, as if he was holding and comforting a crying child.

"Shhh, it's okay. No one will hurt you. You are safe here with me." He whispered and kept saying comforting words. _"Stop crying, my little one."_ He said Khuzdul.

Thorin began humming an old song with his deep voice. He ran his fingers through the golden curls of the halfling and with his other hand he rubbed soothing circles on his back. The hobbit was trembling in Thorin’s arms, but somehow, he started to calm down and stopped struggling, obviously tired. The Hobbit sobbed and buried his face in Thorin’s chest and a tiny hand grabbed his shirt and did not let go.

They stayed like that for a long time and when Thorin noticed, the hobbit was falling asleep again and he found himself in a dilemma. He did not want to let go of the hobbit, but they were in that position that wasn’t very comfortable for sleeping.

Thorin sighed and began to move and in the end, the two were under the blankets, facing each other and Thorin was still holding him and he could not stop staring into those blue eyes. He was so... beautiful. Thorin stroked the hobbit’s cheek and he felt him shudder, but he did not try to push him away.

"Who are you?" The dwarf king asked whispering.

"I’m nobody." The hobbit said closing his eyes. "I am nothing." He whispered, falling into a deep sleep.

Thorin blinked, perplexed at these words. How could he say such a thing?

He was somebody. He was _everything_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you liked it, so please, tell me on the comments ! : )


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
> Thanks for all the feedback, comments and kudos are very welcome!  
> I hope you like this chapte, it took me long to write it but i like the result. I hope you kike it as well.  
> Ok, let's read!

To Thorin's surprise, the hobbit had not wake up to eat the soup that one of the servants brought up to the royal quarters. The Hobbit slept soundly through the afternoon and as much as Thorin wanted to be with him and make sure he was okay, he knew it was not appropriate. Thorin had broken a dozen laws and traditions when he brought the halfling to his personal chambers instead of having taken him to the infirmary. Only dwarves were allowed in the royal quarters, and only those who had royal blood could sleep there. He was sure that the gossip was running free through the halls of Erebor and his advisers must be grumbling and muttering unpleasant things about him. If they even suspected that Thorin would spend the night in the same bedchamber, they would probably have a heart attack.

Besides, the hobbit's wounds were not life threatening, as Óin had just said, he was just weak, but he would recover in no time, so there was no reason to stay there. Then, the king kissed the hobbit's forehead and left the chamber, but he left the door ajar just in case he needed him.

After that, he returned to his royal duties. Balin brought to him an arm full of scrolls that he had to read and sign and the two worked in his study. After that, he had dinner with Frerin and his nephews. Thorin tried to keep a conversation with his brother, asking him things about the north and how had been his journey to Erebor and occasionally laughing at the antics of the young princes. But Thorin's mind was elsewhere. He didn't notice the looks that Fili and Kíli exchanged and how they looked restless as they usually did when they wanted to ask something. Finally, the curiosity of the young dwarves got the best of them.

"So, Uncle Thorin..." Fili - the blonde dwarf -  said, playing with the silverware while Thorin took a sip of his ale. "We've heard that there is a guest in the consort's chamber."

Thorin lowered his mug of ale and placed it on the table. He frowned and cast a glance toward Fili, but it was Kíli who spoke next.

"We've heard that it is a _halfling_. We've never seen one." Kíli said with a smile.

"They're so rare and the books of the Great Library have no drawings of them." Fili said.

"This is terrible. We know how men look like, we know how orcs look like, and we even know how elves look like."

"But we have never seen any halfling."

Thorin looked from one lad to the other, his frown was deepening. His nephews had this habit of keeping dancing around a subject without asking exactly what they wanted to ask. As if Thorin could read their minds. That was so annoying.

"For Mahal's sake!' Frerin said, raising his hands in exasperation, drawing Thorin's attention. "What your beloved nephews want to ask is if they may see the halfling."

The king looked again at his young nephews who had big, hopeful eyes. Thorin, on the other hand, did not seem so glad about it, in fact, he glared at his nephews.

"No." that was his simple answer.

"But ..." Kíli said, the smile dropping from his face. "Please, Uncle Thorin."

"He is recovering from a very traumatic experience. The halfling is too fragile and you will scare him." Thorin said sternly.

"We wouldn’t make any noise." Fili said.

"He must be so cute." Kíli wondered with a smile.

"You think we could hold him for a little bit?" Fili asked his brother.

"Maybe we could feed him." Kíli said excited.

"Enough!" Thorin roared, slamming his hand on the table, silencing the young dwarves. "The Halfling is not a pet!" he said and his nephews lowered their heads ashamed.

"Sorry." They both said in unison.

"I don't want to see anyone snooping in my chambers until the halfling is feeling well or until he is ready to socialize. Did I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir." Both young dwarves said.

They had already finished eating before asking their uncle if they could see the halfling, so they excused themselves and headed to their own quarters, leaving Thorin and Frerin alone.

"Don't you think you're overreacting, brother?"

" _Overreacting_?" Thorin glared at Frerin.

"Yeah." Frerin nodded. "They just wanted to see the little one. What's wrong with that?

"You don't know your own nephews?" Thorin snorted. "They would scare the poor thing with their fuss. I'm just looking after the Halfling since you brought him to me."

"Of course." Frerin giggled. "Keep telling yourself that, brother."

"What?" Thorin asked confused with Frewin’s tone.

"It's nothing." Frerin said smiling, leaving Thorin even more confused. If Thorin wasn't noticing something that was so obvious, it wasn't Frerin who would tell him."

The blond dwarf stood up from his chair at the dining table.

"Well, I'd love to stay here talking to you, but there are taverns to visit and lasses to meet." Frerin emptied his mug of ale and left, leaving Thorin alone in the huge dining room.

The king shook his head fondly. That was Frerin, his brother. Sometimes Thorin forgot that Frerin was young, and like any other young dwarf, he had his weaknesses. In his case, lasses and ale and the combination of these three things always brought a headache - for Thorin, that is. It had come to Thorin's attention that Frerin had been seen drinking and flirting with an elf once. When questioned about it, Frerin said that it wasn't his fault that he was handsome and sociable.

However, it was good to have his brother back in Erebor, even if it meant having to drag the prince out of someone's bed frequently and endure his bad mood because he had a hangover. Choosing not to pay attention to his brother's strange innuendo, Thorin decided it was time for him to head back to his quarters.

When Thorin returned to his quarters, he went to the consort's chamber to take a last look at the halfling before bedtime. After making sure that the halfling was sound asleep and safe, Thorin headed to his own bedchamber, ready to call it a night. He stripped himself of his royal robes, but he kept his underclothes. He lay on the large bed and covered himself with thick blankets, but the sleep wouldn't come easy. His thoughts kept drifting towards a certain hobbit, who was sleeping just a few rooms away.

Everything what had happened that day after he had landed his eyes on the hobbit was still stunning him. His immediate empathy for the little one, his instinct to protect him and his sudden possessiveness were feelings he was not used to have, and he didn't know what to think about it. He didn't know what tomorrow would bring and he didn't know what he would do once the hobbit was awake and healthy enough to take care of himself. The only thing he knew was, whatever had happened to the hobbit before, Thorin would never let it happen again.

****

When Thorin awoke in the morning, the first thing he did was to head to the consort's chambers to see if everything was okay with the halfling. Surprisingly, the hobbit was still asleep. Thorin thought he must be very tired.

The king ordered that his breakfast should be brought to his quarters, and that they should bring something light for the halfling to eat. While he was waiting for the food, he got dressed in a blue tunic and he wrapped a leather belt around his waist, but he chose not to wear his crown and jewels. He had decided he would take the day off to know the hobbit who was  under his protection.

****

The hobbit woke up wrapped in warmth. Slowly, he opened his eyes to see that he was in a large bedchamber, lit by candles and a fireplace that kept the place warm and cozy.

Startled, the halfling sat up in bed and looked around, momentarily confused about where he was, then, all the memories came back all at once.

When the hobbits had been rescued from the orcs' hands, he was sure that Lord Frerin was his new master, but then, they got back on the road and the halfling realized that Lord Frerin was taking them to someone.

When all the hobbits beside him died and he was the only one still alive, the blond hobbit could only pray that his soon-to-be master would be pious like Lord Frerin was.

Nobody said anything, but he was sure that Thorin was his new master. That dwarf with long dark hair and deep blue eyes seemed so powerful, so intimidating. To the Halfling, it was a surprise that he had been so kind last night. Usually, his former masters were violent on the first night, just to show the hobbit who was in charge and that the hobbit was nothing but a slave. But Thorin had been gentle and it was confusing.

Then a frightening thought occurred to him. What if this was a test? What if Thorin was being 'nice' just to test the hobbit, like the others had done, just to see how well trained he was? It had happened before and he still could remember the painful punishment.

"No, no, no." He muttered in panic.

If everything had been a test, he had already failed and Thorin would punish him.

"No, no, no." He muttered, climbing out of the bed and falling on the floor.

He should have known. He knew the rules. How could he have been so stupid to be misled by such an old trick? Sleep in the Master’s bed? What was he thinking? Thorin would punish him, and it would hurt a lot, and the halfling was still too weak to be punished so severely, he would die.

He crawled to a corner and cowered there, hugging his knees close to his chest. He would wait for Master Thorin to come and then he would do anything to not be punished, after all it was not his fault...

****

When the two trays with breakfast finally arrived, the king ate hurriedly a loaf of bread and took a few sips of tea. If the hobbit were still as skittish as he was the day before, making him eat would be strenuous.

When he finished eating, he took the tray in his hands and headed to the consort's chamber, where the Halfling was probably still asleep. Thorin balanced the tray in one hand and with the other he pushed the door so he could step into the bedchamber. When he finally got into the room and looked at the bed, he found it empty. Intrigued, he looked around and saw that his hobbit was in a dark corner of the room, huddled on the floor, hugging his knees close to his chest and shaking with fear.

"Not that again." Thorin muttered to himself while he placed the tray with breakfast on a sideboard. "I thought that we had agreed that you were still too weak to leave the bed." Thorin said trying to sound calm, even though that image was breaking his heart.

The Hobbit snapped his head up and looked into the blue eyes of the dwarf. For a moment, the dwarf king thought the hobbit wasn't recognizing him because his eyes were extremely scared, but then, something flashed in the eyes of the hobbit and Thorin knew that the halfling had recognized him. He must have been scared for waking up in a strange place, that's all.

Thorin cleared his throat and took a step forward, unsure of what to do next. Should Thorin pick him up from the floor as if he were a dwarfling and carry him back to the bed? Well, this looked like a good plan. Decided to do just that, Thorin took another step toward the halfling, but to his surprise, the little one stood up on trembling legs.

"Master Thorin." The halfling said lowering his head.

"I..." Thorin felt goosebumps when he heard his name being said by the hobbit with his soft, trembling voice.

But Thorin had not much time to think about it, as the hobbit suddenly began to undress, untying the laces of his nightgown with trembling fingers and then pulling the garment over his head, exposing his naked body. The hobbit left the nightgown fall on the floor and Thorin was left extremely shocked.

Thorin was speechless and trying desperately to think of something to say. But the awkwardness of the moment was far from ending, because the hobbit approached Thorin and knelt before him, bowing until his forehead was touching the stone floor.

"What are you doing, halfling?"

"Master..." He said with a trembling voice. "I'm sorry for having slept on the bed and for wearing these clothes... It will not happen again, I promise. I accept the punishment, sir... but please ... just ... don't be too rough."

That seemed to bring Thorin back to reality. The king shook his head and knelt to be at the same level of the hobbit’s eyes.

"What are you talking about? For Mahal's sake! Please, get dressed! " Thorin said, reaching for the nightgown that lay on the floor beside the hobbit.

Thorin grabbed the nightgown and handed it to the hobbit who was still in that humiliating position. The halfling shook his head, refusing it.

"I… I can't wear clothes, M-Master Thorin. These are the r-rules. I know the rules sir, I'm sorry for having d-disobeyed the rule, but it's not my fault, someone had put these clothes on me..." The hobbit stammered desperately.

"Please, Halfling, get dressed!" Thorin begged.

Apparently, his tone convinced the halfling somehow. The hobbit took the nightgown from Thorin's hands and began to get dressed awkwardly. Thorin mused that perhaps the halfling wasn't used to do such task, because he was having problems with the sleeves. Thorin let out a sigh and helped the halfling to get dressed, avoiding at all cost to look at his body. When Thorin touched him the halfling flinched, but he let Thorin help him without struggling.

Once the halfling was dressed again, Thorin helped him to stand up. The king tried to lead him to the bed, but the hobbit did not move. Thorin raised an eyebrow and before the halfling could start to protest, the king picked him up in his arms and carried him to the bed - as it was his original plan. The Hobbit protested anyway, struggling as usual, but Thorin was obviously stronger than him and it was easy for the dwarf to bring him to the bed, where he placed him gently over the blankets. Thorin also sat on the bed and stared dumbfounded at the hobbit.

"I'm so sorry, Master." The halfling said sniffling.

"Hey ..." Thorin said, trying to comfort the distraught hobbit. "There's nothing to be sorry about." Thorin reached out to touch the hair of the halfling, but he flinched.

They were silent for a while, until Thorin cleared his throat and asked:

"Why did you undressed and bowed to me as if you wanted me to punish you?"

"I’ve broke the rules, Master." The hobbit replied softly.

"What rules?" Thorin asked intrigued.

"The basic rules." The halfling replied as if it were an obvious thing. "I shouldn't wear clothes; I shouldn't sleep in the Master's bed; I shouldn't speak unless I'm spoken to..." The halfling sniffed again and looked away. "I know this was a test in which I failed. I accept the punishment..."

Thorin shushed him raising a hand. The king had wide eyes and he stared at the hobbit with something akin to horror. He understood everything, the hobbit was thinking that Thorin was his new Master.

"Mahal" Thorin said shocked.

He leaned over and cupped the hobbit's face in his hands gently. The halfling tried to flinch, but when he realized that Thorin was just caressing his face gently, he seemed to relax. Thorin looked into those sapphire eyes that were bright with unshed tears, eyes that had bewitched Thorin from the first moment he had saw them. There was so much fear in those eyes. Did he really thought that Thorin would punish him because he was wearing clothes? The king's heart broke into a thousand pieces. How much pain his little one must have felt at the hands of such cruel people? How could anyone hurt such a fragile and innocent creature?

"Listen to me, Halfling." Thorin said, trying to sound more controlled. "These rules that you are talking about no longer apply. Do you understand me? "

The halfling nodded.

"What are the new rules then?"

"No, there are no rules. You are not my slave." Thorin said.

The halfling looked at Thorin with big, bright eyes.

"I'm not?" He said. His lip trembled and suddenly the tears finally began to roll down his face. "Are you going to sell me? Please don't sell me again?"

"I’m not going to sell you." The king said exasperated. "You are in Erebor, and here, everyone is free." Thorin assured him

The halfling looked confused and Thorin wished he could have thought about something better to say. How would he explain to someone who had spent his entire life as a slave that he was free now?

"Halfling, listen, you are no longer a slave. You are not obliged to serve me or anyone under the mountain. You are free to do what you want to do, and no one will punish you for wearing clothes or sleeping in a bed." Thorin caressed the halfling's face. "You are safe in here."

The halfling started to cry. Thorin frowned, it wasn't his intention to make the little one cry. Like he did the day before, Thorin hugged the halfling to comfort him. The hobbit did not struggled this time, instead of it, he pressed his face against Thorin's strong chest and cried, muttering " _Thank you, Thank you, Thank you_ " over and over again.

"It's all right, Halfling." Thorin muttered, rubbing soothing circles on the hobbit’s back.

Having the halfling in his arms like that was something amazing. Thorin never imagined that hugging someone could make him feel like he was floating. The frame of the hobbit's body was small and it fit perfectly in his arms, as if the hobbit belonged there, as if Thorin's arms were the hobbit's rightful place. With a smile, Thorin thought that yes, that was indeed where the hobbit belonged and nothing, **_no one_** , would take the hobbit away from him.

The chamber was silent. The hobbit was more relaxed, and now he just sniffed slightly. Unable to control himself any longer, Thorin buried his nose in the hobbit's hair and inhaled deeply. He could smell the herbal tea he had drunk, the lavender oil which they had washed his hair the day before and a faint smell of sweat, and everything seemed so ... perfect.

"What is your name?" Thorin said breaking the silence. "I can’t keep calling you _Halfling_ forever."

The halfling seemed to get a little tense, visibly uncomfortable with the question, but he did not try to get away from Thorin’s arms.

"I don’t have a name, Master." He replied in a low voice.

Thorin was intrigued.

"Well, how did your last master called you?" Thorin said, doing his best not to sound annoyed. He really didn't want to think about the former masters of his halfling.

The hobbit shuddered a bit, he did not seem happy to remind his former masters either. He gulped and said with a hesitant voice.

"He called me L- _Little Dog_."

Thorin tightened his grip around the hobbit and swore in Khuzdul. How did they dare to do it? Thorin took a few seconds to calm down before asking again.

"And, what about the master before this one? How did he called you?" Thorin said and he felt the halfling shudder in his arms again.

" _B-Bitch._ " The halfling said with a trembling voice.

Thorin felt another wave of anger washing over him. No one had the right to treat another living being like that, it was too cruel. Thorin wished he could comfort the halfling, he wanted to be able to erase all those bad memories from his mind. Thorin couldn't change the past, but he could provide a wonderful future for his little one, a future in which he would not have to feel pain, or hunger, or fear. A future in which he would be loved.

"All right." Thorin said after he calmed down again. "What was the name your mother gave you when you were born?"

The halfling pulled away a little bit and looked into Thorin’s eyes with an unreadable expression.

"Nobody had ever asked me that." He muttered then he looked away and seemed to think for a moment. "I think it's _Bilbo_ , I… I'm not sure."

"Bilbo" Thorin mused. "Bilbo is a beautiful name." _'As beautiful as you’_ he wanted to add, but he didn’t. "Bilbo." He muttered again, testing the name. _'My Bilbo'_ he thought.

Thorin smiled and stroked Bilbo’s golden hair and then something amazing happened.

Bilbo _smiled_ at him.

It was a small, shy smile, as if Bilbo was not used to perform such facial expression, but the smile was there, lighting up his face and Thorin could see that the Hobbit had dimples. He never had seen dimples as cute as those. Thorin was speechless, that was just the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life, more beautiful than the most beautiful gems under the mountain, more beautiful than the Arkenstone itself.

Thorin did not know then, but it was in that moment, that very moment, that he fell madly and hopelessly in love for the halfling in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
> PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
> IF YOU LIKED THIS CHAPTER, PLEASE TELL ME HERE ON THE COMMENTS!!!!!!  
> KISSES!!! : )


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> I'm sorry for the delay!  
> I was reading the comments on this fic and i'm really glad you're liking it!  
> New characters arrive on the story, you may expect a twist in the plot. I don't know when i'll be able to post again, i hope it's soon. Meanwhile, enjoy the chapter that is longer than usual to make up for the long wait.  
> Thank you

Ps - Please! If you hadn't read it yet, please take a look at my new bagginshield fic [Different kinds os scars](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2275788/chapters/5000901) , I hope you like it and im waiting for your comments!

Ps 2 - This is how i picture Hakon, the new character

 

 

After some time, Thorin reluctantly let Bilbo go of his arms. Surely he wanted, but couldn't keep the halfling in his arms for the rest of the day, besides, he had come to that room with a purpose in mind: to make him eat.

"I suppose you're hungry." Thorin said as he stood up from the bed and walked towards the sideboard in the corner of the bedchamber, where the tray with the breakfast was still waiting to be eaten.

Thorin picked up the tray in his hands and turned around, walking back to the bed. When Bilbo saw the food, his stomach growled, denouncing that the little one was really hungry. Thorin placed the tray on Bilbo's lap and sat on the bed, folding his arms across his chest. The king would not leave that room until Bilbo had eaten everything.

However, Bilbo didn't start to eat. The hobbit looked surprised and a little puzzled by the food that was being offered to him and he stared at the contents of the tray for a while. With a frown, Thorin looked at Bilbo and then to the tray, wondering what was wrong with the food.

There was a loaf of freshly baked bread, toast, jam, some dried fruit, tea and honey and everything looked pretty good. _"Maybe halflings don't eat this kind of food."_ Thorin pondered, realizing once more that he knew almost nothing about hobbits.

The dwarf king looked at Bilbo again and he saw that the halfling was avoiding looking into Thorin's eyes, visibly uneasy with something. Thorin could only think that his suspicions were well founded: the little one didn't want to eat that dwarven food, but apparently he was too shy to say anything.

"The food is not to your liking? I can ask Bombur to prepare something that you like."

"No... the food looks delicious, sir." Bilbo replied and fell silent again.

For a while they sat there in silence, and it was very awkward. Apparently Bilbo was waiting for something, Thorin just didn't know what it was.

"You may eat Bilbo." Thorin said encouraging him.

Bilbo looked at the king with grateful eyes and nodded, reaching out a hand to grab the loaf of bread from the tray. Only then Thorin realized what had just happened: Bilbo was waiting for Thorin's permission so he could start eating. Even after the dwarf had assured Bilbo that he was free, that he was no longer a slave, he still saw Thorin as his master. He was still stuck in that mindset and he would blindly obey any order or command - even if unintentionally - just because he was used to it. It would take time, but Thorin would fix it. He would not have his hobbit thinking that he would humiliate him, denigrate him or hurt him. Thorin wanted Bilbo to feel comfortable in his presence, safe and - why not? - happy.

But this was something with which he would worry later, now he had to make sure that Bilbo would eat.

Bilbo took the bread in his hand and stared at it for a while. He blinked a few times and then looked at Thorin with wide eyes.

"This bread was baked today?" Bilbo asked with a trembling voice.

"Yes it was. Why?" Thorin said, intrigued by the question of the little one.

Bilbo sighed and brought the bread to his mouth and took a bite, tentatively. The little one began to chew and Thorin noticed that his eyes were wet with unshed tears.

"Bilbo? You're okay? What's wrong?" Thorin said, surprised by Bilbo's reaction at eating a simple loaf of bread.

The halfling swallowed the bread and wiped his face with the sleeve of his nightgown.

"They never gave us fresh food to eat, sir." Bilbo said letting out a shaky breath "The bread was always moldy, fruit and meat were always rotten, that is, if they remembered to give us something to eat." Bilbo gave him a watery smile. "Thank you, sir."

Thorin was speechless as he continued to observe the halfling, eating as if every mouthful was the first - or the last - savoring each flavor as if he wanted to catalog them and store them in his memory. The dwarf king remembered the years of penury which his people and himself had to go through, but Thorin had never let his kin starve. He had always found a way to provide for his family and all the dwarves under his care and he thanked Mahal every day for not knowing what it was like to starve. Unlike Bilbo, apparently. He winced slightly, imagining his little one feeling his stomach hurt, wondering when his masters would finally feed him.

"You don't have to worry about that anymore, halfling. I give you my word." Thorin said with his deep voice. He vowed to himself that there would always be a tray with a snack at the disposal of the little one. Bilbo would never feel hungry again.

Then, Bilbo grabbed a toast and spread some jam on it before bringing it to his mouth and took a bite. The Hobbit literally moaned at the taste of blueberry jam and the sound made something stir inside Thorin. And it was _so_ inappropriate. Thorin's feelings were already confusing enough without that halfling making those indecent little noises.

Thorin knew he was staring and he should look away from the hobbit, but then, Bilbo raised his head and looked at Thorin. The halfling smiled, his smile lit up his entire face and they were there again, those dimples, and wasn't that the cutest thing ever? He also had some jam in the corner of his mouth and Thorin had to refrain the urge to lick it clean. Instead, he just reached out a hand and wiped the corner of Bilbo's mouth with his thumb.

The dwarf king let his hand linger on Bilbo's face, marveling at the softness of the skin of that beardless creature. Their eyes met, those sapphire eyes watched him curiously and suddenly Thorin felt totally enraptured by those eyes

"Sir?" Bilbo asked, obviously finding odd the silence of the dwarf.

Thorin's eyes went down to Bilbo's lips. Pink, soft lips. So inviting. Would they taste as sweet as they looked like they were?

"Sir?" Bilbo asked again, this time with a confused frown.

Thorin was not in control of his actions, not when Bilbo looked at him with those eyes and bit his lower lip, innocently ignoring the effect it had on him. Slowly, Thorin leaned forward, getting closer to the hobbit. His face was only inches away from his, so close that he could feel Bilbo's hot breath on his skin. It would be so easy for Thorin to simply cross the space between them to kiss him, pinning him on that bed, covering him with his body, feeling him in his arms and _be_ the cause of those indecent little noises.

But then, Thorin heard someone knocking at bedchamber's door.

"Thorin? Are you there, my king?" He heard Balin's voice from the other side of the door.

The dwarf king blinked a few times, coming out of his lust-induced trance. He withdrew his hand from Bilbo's face and turned away, putting a safe distance between the two. Thorin knew he was completely bewitched by the hobbit. All he wanted was to kiss Bilbo until the end of times, but deep down inside he knew that it wouldn't have been wise, at least not now. As the dwarf had already noticed, the halfling still saw him as his master and he would not fight if Thorin really forced himself upon him. That would be like taking advantage of Bilbo, it would be the same as molesting a child. For Mahal's sake! He would never do something like that. He would rather have his hands cut off with an ax than doing any harm to his hobbit.

Thank Mahal, Balin had stopped him in time.

Thorin cleared his throat awkwardly.

"I'm here, Balin. What do you want?" Thorin said looking away from Bilbo.

"I'm afraid that your presence is being required in the Council room. There is an urgent issue that demands your attention."

Thorin sighed. He wanted to tell Balin to deal with the problem himself, he had taken the day off to spend it with his halfling and he shouldn't be bothered, but Thorin knew he needed a time away from Bilbo to collect his thoughts, even if it meant he would have to spend the rest of his morning in the company of the elders.

"I'm going." Thorin answered resignedly. "Just give me a minute."

He looked once more at Bilbo who looked back at him curiously. Thank Mahal, he seemed oblivious to the sinful thoughts that filled Thorin's mind for that brief moment.

"I have to go now and do some... things..." Thorin said awkwardly.

"Will you leave me alone?" Bilbo said frowning and he looked so young and fragile, like a child who had just woken up from a nightmare and sought the safety of their parents, not wanting to be alone for fear that the monsters of their nightmare would came back to haunt them.

Again, Thorin bravely resisted the urge to take Bilbo in his arms.

"I'll be back later, okay? You're safe here, even if I’m not around." Bilbo nodded but seemed uncertain. "Eat your breakfast." Thorin said and Bilbo just nodded.

He leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on Bilbo's forehead before standing up from the bed. He walked to the door, forcing himself not to look back, because if he did, he would not have the strength to leave that bedchamber.

Thorin left the room, closing the door behind him. Balin was waiting patiently, sitting on the loveseat in the living room between the King's Chamber and the Consort's Chamber. The old dwarf had white hair, white beard and a weary countenance. When Balin saw Thorin walking towards him, he stood up and bowed to his king, and then he straightened up.

"I was busy, Balin. It has to be something really important." Thorin said, his tone betrayed that he was not in a good mood.

"Were you entertaining your guest?" Balin's lips quirked in a slight smile.

"Do you know about the halfling?" Thorin asked surprised. Not that Bilbo's presence in Erebor was some kind of secret, but few dwarves had had contact with the hobbit. "Who else knows?"

Balin sighed.

"Too many people, I'm afraid." The old dwarf replied.

Thorin closed his eyes and braced himself. Something told him that the meeting in the Council room would not be pleasant.

****

There was a large table carved marble in the center of the Council room, where the king and the elders sat to discuss the affairs of the kingdom. There was a fireplace in the corner of the room where wood was burning to provide some warmth. Thorin was sitting at the head of the table, as usual, the elders were filling the remaining seats. Balin was standing beside Thorin, providing moral support. Dwalin was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, bored out of his mind. They were not discussing war strategies, but his presence was necessary because - as Balin said - he had a subtle way to " _calm down the flared tempers_."

Thorin was right after all. "Pleasant" was a word that didn't apply to that situation. Try "mortifying", that would be a more accurate word to describe the non-scheduled meeting with the elders. The king knew that there was some gossip being spread about the hobbit that he had brought up to his own quarters, but he did not expect there would be so many versions of the same story.

Once the king had set his foot inside the Council room, the elders began to bombard him with questions, demanding to know what was going on. They kept talking about how it was a disrespect to the dwarven traditions and, seriously, it was starting to make his head hurt.

"A hobbit in the royal quarters? This is preposterous!" One of the elders said outraged.

"Not only had the king brought the creature to the royal quarters, but he also let it stay in the Consort's Chamber!" Said another elder, adding fuel to the fire.

There was a burst of voices shouting in outrage. Thorin shifted uncomfortably in his seat and looked pleadingly to Balin who just shrugged as if he was saying "You are the king, lad. Deal with it.".

One of the elders - Hakon was his name - rose suddenly of his seat, catching the attention of everyone in the room. Thorin especially hated that dwarf. First of all, he wasn't an elder - being just a few years older than Thorin himself - he had inherited his seat on the marble table after his father, Hadon, had _'died mysteriously'_ during the trip from the Blue Mountains to Erebor, after Thorin and company had reconquered the Lonely Mountain. He had red hair and blue eyes full of malice. Every word that came out of his mouth was dripping poison and he seemed to feel a morbid pleasure in causing discord among the dwarves. Unfortunately, only Thorin could see beyond his mask. He motioned with his hand, asking for silence. Thorin was not impressed that he, of all people, had something to say.

"Our king knows our laws and traditions." Said Hakon, and his tone of arrogance didn't go unnoticed by Thorin. "He had deliberately infringed the laws, and for what? For a _Hobbit_?" He spat the word as if he were speaking of a dirty, disgusting thing, not the most sweet, innocent and cute creature Thorin had ever seen. "This slave is not worthy to walk the same stone floor that our ancestors once walked."

How dare he speak like that of his halfling? That son of a beardless mother! The king clenched his fists under the table and had to use all of his self control not to stand up and break every bone on Hakon face with his own fists.

"He is as worthy as you." growled Thorin. "How can we deny shelter to someone in need? I think you're forgetting about a time when we ourselves had no place to live or anyone to give us a helping hand? You should have seen the condition of the halfling, he was going to die out there. I've made the right decision when I brought him into the mountain."

"I understand, my king, I really do." Hakon continued, "You are generous and benevolent. But you are also a fool. Bringing the slave to the Consort's Chamber? What would the ancestors say about that?" He said and the other elders began to murmur.

"The ancestors are dead, Hakon." Thorin replied in the same tone. "And I think they have more important things to do in the afterlife than bothering about who sleeps in that room or not."

It was difficult for Thorin to hold back a smile when he saw the stunned expression on Hakon's face. But the expression only lasted a second and then Hakon snorted, assuming again a smug expression. He began to pace around the room, like a predator that haunts his prey.

"I think our king fails to see the danger which he has exposed all of us."

"Bilbo is harmless." Thorin glared at him.

"We know nothing about this creature. He might as well cut our throats while we sleep." Hakon snorted. "The king’s lack of concern with his own people's safety is shocking."

"Shocking is seeing a dwarf talking like that to the king." Dwalin said, his deep voice echoing from where he was still sitting in his chair in the corner. "Back in my day, you would have your tongue cut out for being so bold."

Hakon glared at Dwalin who just raised an eyebrow, silently daring him to continue.

"Hey now." Balin said in a placating manner. "Thorin acted on impulse and broke some stupid rules that are older than me? Yes. But his intentions were noble and no one here can deny that."

The elders looked at each other and began to murmur among themselves in agreement. Hakon looked around, apparently angry that he was no longer able to bring the elders to his side. Then, Thorin cleared his throat to speak.

"The Hobbit, Bilbo, is not a slave in this mountain. He is under my protection, and he will continue to reside in the royal quarters if he so desires. No dwarf shall harass him in any way and the hobbit will be treated with the same respect you would show for someone of my family. I am the king and this is my decision. Did I make myself clear?"

The elders nodded and Thorin was glad that they had finally understood that he would not give up of his halfling. But of course, Hakon had more to say.

"I wonder why the king fancies this creature so much." He said, words full of venom.

Thorin narrowed his eyes.

"My reasons do not concern you, Hakon, son of Hadon." the dwarf opened his mouth to refute, but Thorin cut him off. "And I suggest you to think very carefully before you open your mouth to spit your poisonous words, or else, I may get inclined to accept Dwalin's suggestion about cutting out your tongue."

Hakon glared at Thorin with hatred in his eyes and stormed out of the Council room.

Thorin rubbed his sore temples. Something told him Hakon would cause him problems sooner or later.

****

Once Thorin had left the room, Bilbo found himself alone again. Without the overwhelming presence of the dwarf, Bilbo could think clearly about everything that had happened that morning.

Master Thorin was an extremely wealthy and powerful person, but rather to keep Bilbo as his slave - like so many had done before him - he had given him his freedom. The Hobbit still could not believe what had happened to him, how his life had changed in so little time. He was free, he was finally free.

The problem was that Bilbo had no idea what to do now.

Hobbits being freed was not something unheard of. Some masters, like Thorin, were kind and generous enough to give them their long awaited freedom. But as everything has pros and cons, for some Hobbits freedom was only the beginning of another kind of nightmare. How would they survive without a master to _'take care'_ of them? As bad as a master could be, hobbits were fragile things, a luxury, they were expensive and the masters had to provide food and shelter - even the food being scarce and disgusting and the shelter being filthy - without a master, many of the freed hobbits ended up on the streets as beggars or in brothels as prostitutes. For many Hobbits it was like jumping from the frying pan into the fire.

Would that be his future? Now that Thorin had freed him, he would spend the rest of his days begging for crumbs just to have something to eat? A cold fear filled his heart.

But perhaps Master Thorin would be generous enough to take him as his servant. It would not be so bad, as far as he could see, Thorin had a good heart and would not harm him as his former masters.

His master was intriguing. Bilbo noticed something dark in Thorin's eyes in that moment he caressed his face before he was called out of the room. That was something he had seen before in the eyes of his former owners and that made him shiver. He didn't want to think that Master Thorin would suddenly become mean and force him to do things. Because, at same time Thorin seemed to devour him with his eyes, the hand touching Bilbo's face was gentle, caring. He hadn't forced anything so far, even Thorin having had several opportunities to do so, and it confused Bilbo.

But it wouldn't do him no good to think about that.

Bilbo put the tray with the breakfast on the nightstand and lay down on the bed again, suddenly feeling very tired, after all, it was the first time in a long time he had a full belly and a comfortable place to sleep. He curled up in bed, making a kind of nest around him with the soft blankets, so that only his golden curls would be visible. He sighed happily. It was instinctive for hobbits to seek comfort in soft blankets or cuddling together in large piles. This was a kind of defense mechanism, he guessed, hobbits were fragile and gentle creatures.

Suddenly his eyelids began to feel heavy and he knew he could not stay awake and wait for Thorin to come back. "I'll just take a nap, that's all. A quick nap." Bilbo thought when he closed his eyes and in a few minutes he was fast asleep.

He didn't heard the door of the bedchamber being open.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE!!!!!  
> COMMENT IF YOU LIKE IT
> 
> PS - I'm taking prompts, so if you want me to fill your prompt just follow me on twitter and post it there. You can find me at https://twitter.com/NatOliverAO3  
> I'm waiting for you! ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for readin!  
> If you like it or have any suggestions, please tell me here on the comments.


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